There’s a large, framed picture of Carrie on a stand in front of the flowers. I can’t bring myself to look at it or the casket next to it, but even out of my peripheral, I recognize the photo. Two years ago, she had headshots taken for her college newspaper, where she wrote a weekly column. She was so damn proud—her smile had been so big as she told me about it. She’s not smiling in the picture, though. She wanted to keep it professional and serious. I’m glad it’s not a smiley, happy photo. I don’t know why. Not like it would make a difference.
I manage through tearful hugs from her mom, dad, and grandparents, and I’m thankful that my parents do most of the talking. And that her mother doesn’t yell and scream at me for breaking her daughter’s heart. I half expected that sort of reaction from her. She is so protective of Carrie. Was so protective. Fuck.
Actually it’s her dad I should be worried about. Cam is ex-military and could break me like a twig if he wanted to. Age has only made him stronger and scarier. He doesn’t though. No one seems to blame me. No one but myself.
My family and I step off to the side near the doorway to the hall.
“Your hair is too long. I can barely see your face.” Mom smooths back the long strands hanging in my eyes. Hiding me. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say because I am. And because I’m not allowed to be anything but fine. I broke up with her. Sure, I still care about her. Cared now, I guess. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I don’t know what to think, let alone say out loud.
I swallow around the lump in my throat. I don’t feel like I should be here mixing with all the people that were still a part of her life. People that hadn’t brought pain to her recently or cast her aside. I’m an imposter. A has been. Maybe only by a couple of months, but I can’t shake the uneasiness or desire to get out of here.
My mom pulls her purse strap higher on her shoulder. “We should get home. I’m making pies and casseroles for tomorrow, and I have a roast in the Crock-Pot. Will you be back for dinner?”
I can’t even think about eating. “The guys and I will probably grab something before we head back.”
“Okay.” She leans forward and kisses my cheek. “Don’t be too late.”
Loosening my tie, I keep my head down as I walk back to my spot next to the guys. Even still, I’m stopped by a guy from high school. Jim or Jimmy, I think. He doesn’t offer up his name as he leans forward and embraces me.
“I’m so sorry, man,” he says. He smacks me on the back as he squeezes.
“Thank you.” When I speak, my voice cracks.
He pulls back and checks my expression. I duck my head and walk away before he can say anything else. Maybe that’s rude, but so is hugging someone without warning.
Mav hands me a bottle of water.
“I’m good.”
He keeps his arm extended until I finally give in and take it from him. I unscrew the cap and take a long drink, then promptly cough because this isn’t fucking water. Vodka burns my throat and heats my chest.
The guys huddle around me as people start to look in our direction.
“Little warning would have been good,” I manage to get out. I glance around. Jim or Jimmy has broken the ice, and more people I went to high school with are looking my way like they might come say hello. I’d rather eat Tide pods. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re sure?” Adam asks.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Rhett!” I look up as Carrie’s mom, Cory, calls my name. She waves a hand in the air and holds her head up to see over the crowd.
“Go ahead. I’ll meet you guys outside,” I say to Mav and Adam.
Adam squeezes my shoulder as they leave.
Cory clutches a tissue in her hands. “You’re welcome to stand up front with us. People are asking about you. They want to offer their condolences to you, too.”
“Oh, uh, thank you, but I wouldn’t feel right.”
She tilts her head to the side. “Why not? You’re like family.” She reaches out and squeezes my arm. Her eyes fill with tears, and I flex my jaw to keep my composure. “She loved you so much. I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. You’ll come over tomorrow afternoon and be with us at least? We’ll get through this together.”
* * *
“Do you think they know we were broken up?” I stare straight ahead at the bottles of liquor lined up behind the bar. My gaze keeps snagging on the coconut-flavored vodka. It was Carrie’s favorite.
“I don’t know,” Adam says. “Was she close with them?”
“Yeah, pretty close. She talked to her mom every other day or so.” Which means she’d definitely talked to her since we broke up.
Mav slides another shot along the bar in front of me. “So, what if she didn’t mention you broke up. What’s the big deal?”
I glance around. “Keep it down.”
“What?”
“It’s not that big of a town, and I’d rather Carrie’s family not hear the news from the local gossip.”
“Are you going to tell them?” Adam asks.
“I don’t know. How do you bring that up?” I shake my head.
“Get through the weekend and then…” His words trail off.
And then what? Grow a new heart and brain? Forget this ever happened?
“Thank you guys for being here.” I toss back the liquor. Logically I know I have to be drunk by now, but I feel nothing.
“Are you kidding? We fly together. Quack, quack, quack.” Mav flaps his arms.
“Uhhh, what?” I’m not drunk enough to understand whatever he’s communicating. Or too drunk, hard to say.
“Mighty Ducks!”
“No.” Adam shakes his head. “Never refer to us as the Mighty Ducks again.”
“Why not?” Mav looks crestfallen. “You can be Charlie.”
“Who does that make you?” I ask.
“Please, I’m a bash brother, of course.”
“Of course,” I say, looking to Adam.
Adam’s phone pings. I’m sure it’s Reagan. I don’t ask, just go back to staring down into my beer.
“Heard from Sienna?” Adam asks, setting his phone on the bar. It pings again, and this time I glance down to see Reagan’s name flash across the screen.
“Yeah, she’s been great.” I wish she were here so badly, but maybe it’s a good thing considering Carrie’s parents might think we were still dating.
“I need to book my flight back tomorrow. What time you think?” Mav asks.
“You guys don’t need to stay. I appreciate it, but there’s nothing to do.”
“There’s an eleven o’clock or a five.”
“Five puts us back at what time?” Adam asks.
They’re checking airlines to find the best option and I’m wondering what the hell I’m even doing here.
“Let’s do the eleven o’clock.” I drain the rest of my glass and seriously consider ordering an entire bottle of Captain Morgan.
The heavy silence and sad eyes Mav gives me is the only reason I don’t.
“Isn’t the funeral at ten? We’ll never make it on time.” Adam finishes his beer. “You want another drink?”
“No, I’m good.” It’s my new favorite phrase. Succinct and total bullshit. “Book it. I’ve done what I came here for.”
I stand and stumble over my own feet.
“Woah, there.” Adam steadies me, Mav goes to the other side, and they hold me up.
“See?” Mav grins. He whispers, “Quack, quack, quack.”
29
Sienna
Dakota and Reagan come to my late afternoon yoga class. Since the trip, we’ve been inseparable. They understand everything that’s going on, which is nice, but I also just really enjoy being with them. Somewhere along the way, Rhett’s friends have become mine.
“Is Rhett coming back today, too?” Reagan asks when everyone else is gone and it’s just the three of us sitting on our mats.
“Yes. I wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow, but I c
annot wait to see him.”
“How is he?” Dakota asks.
“Good. I think. It’s hard to tell. Every time I ask him how he’s doing, he turns it back on me.” He sounds tired and a little off, but who could blame him?
“He cares about you a lot. You really scared him,” Reagan says with a look that says that he’s not the only one I scared.
“Do you still get to skate at your competition this weekend?” Dakota asks.
I nod enthusiastically. The one shining beacon in an otherwise crappy week. “Thank goodness.”
“I switched my days working at the Hall of Fame so we can come,” Dakota says.
“Really?” A smile splits my lips.
“Duh. We’re not going to miss your last skating competition.”
“My parents and little sister are coming, too. They haven’t seen me skate all year.” I glance down at my watch to check my heart rate.
Reagan leans back on one elbow. “Your heart condition, is it hereditary?”
“Sometimes, but in my case, it’s not. My friend Elias is a third-generation though.”
“The pairs skater?” Dakota asks.
“That’s right.”
“Does it freak you out or no? Also, feel free to tell me to mind my own damn business,” Reagan says.
“I don’t mind talking about it. And no, it doesn’t really freak me out. Only when I can’t do something that I want to, but for the most part I’ve adapted my life to a point that it doesn’t feel like I’m missing out.”
“Are your parents cool with you skating even with the risks?”
“Yeah. They have been great. The first year was hard and we fought a lot with me trying to keep living the same life and them always panicked that something would happen to me, but you can’t live in a constant state of fear and anxiety. We went to therapy and we figured out what works for us. Namely, letting me do what I want.” I grin. “I had to decide what was important to me and what things I was just holding on to because I thought I needed to drive my parents crazy. I don’t care about binge drinking and I was pretty healthy even before I was diagnosed. The only thing I refused to give up is skating. Since I was already a skater, that helped too. Things that are outside of my routine seem to set me off more than anything.”
“I think you’re incredibly brave,” Reagan says, flashing me her dimples.
I go back to their apartment with them. I haven’t heard from Rhett since this morning, but I want to be there when he arrives.
Adam is standing outside of the apartment with a cocky grin when we walk up the stairs. Reagan takes off in a sprint, squealing.
“Is Rhett here too?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Adam manages to say and motion with his head before Reagan occupies his mouth.
I go straight back to his room. He unzips the bag on the bed, looking up when I enter.
“You’re back.”
He stands tall. “I just got in. I was going to text you tomorrow. I’m so beat.”
He faces me, and I can see the exhaustion. His normally smooth face is sporting scruff and his gray-blue eyes are hazy.
“Yeah, of course. I was with Dakota and Reagan and we ran into Adam.” I linger in the doorway, then finally step forward to hug him. It’s the first time I’ve breathed easy in two days. His scent and his strong arms wrap around me. “I missed you. I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Me too. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have that behind me. How’ve you been feeling? And don’t say fine.”
“Better now.” I squeeze harder.
I don’t know how long we stand there embracing, but he lets out a contented sigh. “I’m gonna shower and go to bed. Can you stay?”
“If you want me to.” I wasn’t sure if he’d want space after all he’s been through, but I’m relieved when he looks at me like I’m ridiculous for considering any other option.
“Definitely. Maybe I’ll be more fun after twelve hours of sleep.”
“It’s okay. I have some reading to do for class anyway.”
He nods and then goes to shower.
True to his word, he showers and then climbs into bed and passes out. I read at his desk using my cell phone as a light, then crawl in beside him. When I wake up, he’s wrapped around me like a human teddy bear.
And that’s how the next couple of days go.
Rhett goes to classes, skates or lifts weights for several hours in the afternoon, and then comes back to his apartment exhausted and ready to sleep. We cuddle, we have sex, we watch movies, and sit together while we do schoolwork, but we barely leave his room outside of the previously mentioned activities.
When I ask him how he’s doing, he says he’s good and then kisses me. I don’t know if it’s a distraction technique, but it’s effective.
Thursday evening we’re sprawled out on his bed. He’s watching a movie on his phone and I’m trying to read for class.
Heath yells from the other side of the door and then opens it a crack. “You guys want to play sardines?”
I look to Rhett.
“Nah, man. We’re good. Thanks.”
Heath glances to me, a flash of uncertainty in his gaze, and then nods.
“Are you sure? I’m just reading ahead so I can follow along better in class. I can be done if you want to play.”
He shakes his head. “Not really feeling it.”
“You could let me beat you at Mario Kart.”
He snorts and then curls a finger around the front of my tank, pulling it down to show my cleavage. “I’m good right here.”
Don’t get me wrong, I love being with Rhett. I love being naked with Rhett, but his bedroom is starting to feel like our hideout.
“So, I heard that there’s a party tomorrow night for the hockey team. Are you going?”
“Yeah, it’s mandatory. The team is making an entrance. I promise we can duck out at a reasonable hour. I know you have the Valley Classic early Saturday.”
“We, huh? I guess that means I’m invited.”
“You go where I go.” He leans forward and touches his lips to mine.
“A night out sounds fun, actually.” I watch his expression carefully, but he’s stoic. “And I don’t have to be to the rink Saturday until ten so I’m good until at least midnight, when I turn into a pumpkin.”
A small smile tips up one side of his mouth.
“I thought you’d be more excited about it.”
“Excited about a night where I have to dress up and mingle with alumni and boosters?” He cocks a brow.
“A night celebrating with your friends. Since you didn’t get to the night you won.”
He doesn’t respond and goes back to watching his phone.
I set my book aside and scoot closer to him. “Are you doing okay with all this? Really? I can’t tell and I want to be here for you.”
“You are here for me.” He smiles and pokes me.
“Emotionally. You’ve barely said two words about Carrie or the funeral.”
He drops his phone to his lap. “What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.”
“It sucked and I feel awful about what happened. That help?”
“Does it help you?”
“No, which is why I haven’t said anything. It’s over and done, and I’m moving on. Talking about it is the opposite of what I want. Okay?”
I nod. “Okay.”
“Being with you makes me feel better. You’re here for me—physically and emotionally.”
I kiss him. “I’m hungry. Want something to eat?”
“Mmmm.” He hums, kisses me again and mumbles against my lips. “And mentally. I was just thinking about food. You read my mind.”
“Want to go out?” I stretch my legs out.
“Nah, let’s just order something.”
30
Sienna
“I’m worried about Rhett,” I confess to Dakota the next night as we get ready for the party.
“Yeah, the guys are too.”
“Really?”
She nods. “I wasn’t sure if I should say anything.”
The pit in my stomach grows. “I don’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and he isn’t doing anything wrong. He just wants to stay in his room and make out.”
Dakota laughs. “Most girls wouldn’t consider that a problem.”
“I know. I know. The last thing I want to complain about is my boyfriend wanting to have sex too often, but I just have this terrible feeling that he hasn’t dealt with the loss at all.”
“Maybe it isn’t something he can just deal with in a week. I know they were broken up, but he was with her for a really long time. My mom died when I was fifteen, and it took me years to really deal with all the emotions I was feeling.”
“Oh my gosh, Kota, I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. I got through it, but there’s still moments where I miss her so much I can’t breathe.”
“I’ve never lost anyone that close to me.”
“He’ll be okay,” she promises. “Give him time.”
She stands from the vanity in Reagan’s room. “How do I look?”
“Hot. The shoes are a nice touch, too.”
She kicks up one leg behind her, showing off the red Converse. Somehow paired with a short black dress, it works. Very Dakota.
“Reagan, hurry up in there!” Dakota yells toward the bathroom.
“My hair is not cooperating.” She emerges, spraying hairspray as she walks. “Is Ginny here yet?”
Dakota shakes her head. Her red hair is at full volume, framing her face in big curls. She plays with a strand, twisting it around her finger. “No, she’s meeting us there. Somehow she got roped into helping set up.”
“All right, then, I think we’re ready,” Reagan says and smiles, looking from me to Dakota. “We are some serious eye candy. Let’s take a photo.”
We cram together, cheesing at the camera, as Reagan snaps a dozen photos of us.
The party is thrown in front of University Hall. A large open tent is set up with a buffet line and bar. The Valley U dance team and cheerleaders are in attendance, as well as the roadrunner mascot. It has a whole Friday Night Lights vibe that I have to wonder isn’t more about the alumni and boosters than the team that just won a national championship.
Broken Hearts Page 19